


Message

by chrissy2



Category: Bon Jovi
Genre: Epiphanies, Late Night Messaging, M/M, Orlando Massacre, Pining, September 11 Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-14 23:55:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7196648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrissy2/pseuds/chrissy2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had messaged a few times after Richie left, and while they were not in any way resentful or hateful, not that Jon knew of any way, their text messages were short and far from friendly. At first, Jon refused to be friendly with him, especially after that reckless leave. Then once he got over the anger, he wanted nothing more than to at least hug him again. He wanted to message, but he was too afraid to. </p><p>This pushed him to finally message him with lots of emotion, but with very few words. Once Richie recieved the messages, wherever he was right now, Jon was sure he understood the feeling entirely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Message

The messaging after was less frequent, as anyone would imagine after such an episode. But there was no hatred, at least none that Jon knew of. If there was any resentfulness behind why Richie chose to do what he did, Jon either did not know, or tried to swallow it down and let it burn into his stomach, deny the reality as much as possible.

At first, he did not want to be friendly at all, especially after what he did. It hurt. But this did not last long. Jon was persistant, but he wasn't stubborn. After that, in between casual messages with a bland, tenuous nature behind them, no apparent bitterness in any way, Jon wanted nothing more than to ask:

_Was it me?_

But he was too afraid of the answer, afraid that that would send them rolling over this quiet, peaceful wall placed between them, keeping them from--whatever. A true blow out. A fight. A terrible revelation.

And so, it's all swallowed down for the sake of peace, or a peace in a blissful ignorance. Then,--

The massacre happened. Orlando, around 50 dead, 53 injured, all victims targeted homosexuals, bisexuals, transgendered/transsexual persons, etc--a true hate crime--as a survivor remembered how the killer laughed manically as he lined them up and shot them. He may have gotten the numbers wrong, but he really didn't want to look into it at the moment. The news did not reach Jon for a while, surprisingly. He wasn't on social media as much as his wife or his kids or Teek or Dave. But when he did hear about it, the memory of 9/11 came rushing back to him like it was yesterday. Everyone knew what they were doing that day, what they were wearing, what they were eating, _exactly._ It was a day too vivid for even the smallest details to slip out of the scorch.

Richie was with Jon when the plane hit the tower. The very smoke was blown down to his state, rolling over his house, over them, like a storm. As they turned on the news and listened to the cries of all the widows and widowers, it was enough to send the two men into a tight embrace--an embrace too tight, as if they were going to lose each other, die with them tomorrow--then they made love. To Jon's memory, it was one of the most intense sex they ever had, the only other time that could compare was when they were having problems in the early nineties and ended up hiring a shrink.

The kissing was deeper, with more teeth, the breathing out their noses sharper. Their fingers and fingernails, wherever they found themselves to be in the hour or hours of passion--running through hair, on the others' hips, the sides of their faces--clutching, clawing, clinging, holding for dear life. Richie's thrusts and Jon's eventual riding was harsher, but god, they couldn't stop themselves. It was very difficult for either of them to come, as they were not relaxed at all. At the time, it was the only way for them to handle these new fears crashing into them.

They were scared for themselves. They were scared for the world. A lot of people were talking about wars, wars, wars and it was terrible.

And Jon then, upon hearing of this new tragedy, remembered every bit of 9/11. And that was enough to bring him to his phone, and type with shaking hands:

_I love you._

He knew Richie had already heard of it. Even when countries apart, they had that fucking connection, that emotional link that would never go away, no matter how angry they were at each other. He knows, that wherever he is, he will understand his message. He will understand every bit of it. The same memory will come rushing back.

 


End file.
